The Adventurers of Middle Earth part one
by scarlet dragon
Summary: Serious case of uncanon Denethor. Him and the Palantir decide that they're bored, and in need of an adventure. But they end up with a bit more then they bargened for! chapter one up! R
1. chapter one

Disclaimer: Denethor and other characters, places, etc. from Lord of the Rings aren't mine. They belong to Tolkien. as for the rest, they're mine. By the way. The intro of this thing is in my gallery on side7. e of my other Denethor-fic. Though, I hope you'll enjoy it nevertheless!

The adventurers of Middle-Earth Part one: when bunny-orcs find you and decide you're boring 

Denethor and his companion, the all-seeing orb formally known as Palantír, were happily packing their things. Meaning, Denethor was packing his things and the orb was looking out the window, humming to itself (as far as it is possible for an orb with no face to hum at all). When the steward was finished, he picked up the Palantír, stuffed it in a leather carrying case and skipped merrily out the door. 

The strange look he got from Faramir made him even happier. The look on the face of his oldest son, when the youngest would tell him what his father had been doing, would be priceless. To bad he wouldn't be around to see it, being otherwise engaged. Denethor smiled, as he and his companion made their way to the stables. Denethor saddled his horse (Usually, he would let a servant do that, but now the point was to stay unnoticed.), checked his luggage to see if nothing was missing, and rode off into the sunset. He had an entire day in front of him, and he felt liberated.

After an hour's ride or so, the Palantír was beginning to get bored.

' Say, steward-fellow, how's about lunch, hmmm?' It whispered. The Steward sighed.

' Stop calling me steward-fellow. I have a name… Denethor, son of Ecthelion, steward of Gondor.'  Denethor said proudly. The Palantír seemed to ponder on this a bit.

' Well, all right, Denethor, son of Ecthelion, steward of Gondor. Say, Denethor, son of Ecthelion, steward of Gondor, I have a question. That is, if Denethor, son of Ec…' 

' You've' made your point.' The Steward said, rather agitated. This orb was being to smug for its own good.' From now on, call me Denethor. Just, Denethor.'

' All right, Just Denethor, if you like.' The orb answered with enthusiasm. The Steward sighed once more, and rode on.

Three hours later.

' Ehm, lunch anyone?' 

The Steward halted, and looked down to face the orb. (Which was difficult enough, if you realise the orb doesn't have a face, at all!)

' Now you listen, and listen good. We've only been riding for three hours, and it isn't even near lunch-time. We've had a short pause ten minutes ago, and already you're whining about another one. I've had it! I'm going back!' He turned his horse, but the Palantír was panicking now.

' Wait! Wait! I'm sorry, I'll be a good little sphere and be quiet, but please don't go back! It's so dull back there!' 

Denethor had to agree on that point. Even the east had done nothing for quite a while. Boredom was all around. Denethor needed this outing as much as his companion did. Fact was, he really didn't want to go back. So they turned round again, and continued on their way. The Palantír kept its word, and was quiet for the rest of the way, until Denethor thought it was time for lunch. (Which wasn't for another three hours, mind you!)

' So, where are we going, exactly. Where does one find an adventure?' The steward asked the orb, while chewing happily on a piece of bread. 

The Palantír thought awhile, then answered in the negative.

' I don't know. It is said that adventures have this strange habit of showing up at random. Maybe there's one right around the corner, maybe not. Who knows, really?'

The steward stopped chewing, and gazed at the orb in wonder.

' You mean, there may not be an adventure at all? That this may be just a ride in the country?' Denethor said, with a disappointed look on his face. The orb felt sorry for him, and decide to do his best to cheer him up.

' Don't worry, steward, I'm sure something will come up eventually. This is a good day for an adventure! Can't you feel the excitement? There's something brewing, that's' for sure.'

Denethor felt relieved somewhat. After lunch, they rode on, till they reached a part of the mountains that was new to them. And to a crack in the wall, that had gone unnoticed for centuries. But, of course, our two travellers don't know that. Denethor got off of his horse, checked to see if the Palantír was safely strapped in and walked into the slim opening. What was inside turned out to be amazing, and the steward and his companion held their breaths in awe.

****


	2. chapter two

The inside of the cave was paved with jewellery. It was absolutely fabulous. Walls of emerald and pearl shone on our two travellers, and the floor was made entirely out of the blackest onyx, giving them the feeling like they were floating above an abyss. They felt weightless. The high sealing seemed to consist entirely out of moonstone. It was amazing. When Denethor got a closer look at the walls, he saw all these openings. Some of them were the size of mouse holes, others were so gigantic, a troll could walk through them without bumping his head on the sealing.

'Hello, strangers. What brings you here?'

A lady had walked up behind them. She had long hair that seemed to be all the colours of the rainbow. Her gown had that same effect. Her eyes were large, and looked strangely like the onyx that shaped the floor. The strangest thing of all was… that she had wings? 

She had wings that reminded one very strongly of those of a butterfly. They were dark blue, and made a very strong contrast to her pale skin. There was a small smile on her face. Denethor and his companion were baffled by so much beauty. They just stood there like marionettes that nobody played with. 

'We… we…we…we…' And the steward had completely lost it.

'We come to you, most beauteous amongst the most beautiful, in search of an adventure.' The palantír answered quickly. Lord knows, he wouldn't let that stupid man ruin his outing. The steward slowly came to his senses, and found he was drooling. The lady smiled at the both of them.

'Then you have come to the right place. This is the cave of plotholes, and I am its guardian. If you are in search of an adventure, then I suggest you choose an opening and make your way through it.'

Denethor looked around. There were more openings than he had noticed before. It was almost, like they were being created on the spot. 

'Most plotholes are temporary. They stay in one place for round and about eight hours. Some take a bit more time, others are only here for about five minutes. Time means little to me, though.' The lady continued, as if reading the steward's mind. 'Most importantly is that I have no control over when or where they appear. All I know, is how long they will last. Now choose.'

This last thing came as a bit of a surprise. The two adventurers looked around. There were plotholes in many shapes and sizes. The steward pointed towards one of the really small ones.

'What about those? Those are too small for us. What if that one turns out to lead to treasure?'

'Some work differently then others do. If you really want to go where that plothole leads you, then just stick your hand in…'

The steward doubted a while, then stuck his hand into it. He felt a pull, and was sucked through the hole.

'And remember…eight hours, then you have to come back. Remember where to find it!' he heard the voice of the fairy say. Then all turned black. 


	3. chapter three

'Wake up, you silly man! We have to get going!' 

Denethor groaned, and sat up. His head felt sore and bruised. In fact, he was sore and bruised. The plothole had spat them out against the side of an old wall. Denethor looked up, and saw the heavy rain clouds floating towards them.

'We better get going, if we don't want to get soaked!' the palantír insisted. Denethor saw the wisdom in this, but was annoyed none the less. Hé, after all, hadn't remembered making the orb the leader of this mission. He was the steward, so he should be leader!

'Stop your belly-aching, and let's get going!' 

Denethor got up, and cursed the day the creator of the palantíri had given them the power to read minds. 

As they progressed, the wall turned out to be part of a city. It was in ruins now, but had once been great. They found shelter in what seemed to have been a great hall once. It was amazing that the dome of that hall had stayed firmly in place, when all else was… well, ruined.  The steward grinned.

'Hey, palantír, guess what? I just made a funny.'

'…No, you didn't. That wasn't funny.'

'…Yes, it was.'

'…No, it wasn't.'

'…It was!'

'…It wasn't!'

'Was!'

'Wasn't!'

'WAS!'

'WASN'T!'

'TWIT!'

'LOSER!'

Denethor grabbed the orb, and threw it against the wall. It bounced of with a clank, and rolled on the floor. If it had a face, it would be seeing serious stars right about now. Denethor was about to check on it, because he really did care, when the floor beneath them opened, and they slid down a steep slope. 

'Mpfhgrgadsgp!'

'Will you stop eating the local flora, I'm sure it would upset the stomach.'

Denethor and the palantír had landed in a heap of leaves, conveniently placed at the bottom of the slope. To bad the steward had landed mouth-first into it. The palantír didn't have one, and thanked his creator for that daily. Then they looked around.

Where the hell were they?   


End file.
